Around the Bend (Sandy Cove Series Book 4)

by Rosemary Hines

  She smiled. “Rick is fine, Dad. Now tell us how you are doing?”

  “These two ladies are waiting on me hand and foot,” he replied, gesturing to Joan and Annie, who sat quietly in a corner of the room. “They fuss over me day and night.”

  Annie looked up and smiled.

  “I’m so sorry,” Joan piped up as she placed a tray with coffee and muffins on a nearby table. “We forgot to introduce you. This is your father’s nurse.” She turned to Sheila and added, “Annie’s a real Godsend.” Then she glanced over at Phil. “Isn’t she, honey?”

  “Pure gold,” he replied with a warm smile.

  Annie busied herself plumping Phil’s pillows and checking his morphine IV drip. “Good?” she asked.

  “Good,” he replied.

  “I’ll let you four have some family time,” she said. “I’ll be out back if you need me,” she added, patting Phil’s knee as she left.

  “So what’s new with Tim?” Phil asked Sheila. “I rarely hear about my grandson these days.”

  “He’s doing great, Dad. He travels quite a bit for his job, but seems to love it.”

  “Does he still have his apartment in Seal Beach?” Joan wanted to know.

  “Yeah. I think Seal Beach will always be his home base.”

  Michelle nodded. “He’ll never leave Seal,” she agreed.

  “How about you? Do you miss Seal Beach, honey?” Phil asked his daughter.

  “I did at first, Dad. But I love my new home, and it’s great to be near the grandkids.”

  “Speaking of which, did you bring us some pictures of those kids?” he asked Michelle hopefully.

  She pulled her iPad out of her purse. Flipping open the cover, she brought up a slew of recent photos taken since their last visit.

  Joan pulled her chair up close to the head of the bed, and together she and Phil scrolled through the pictures with Michelle’s help, smiling and even chuckling at a few.

  “Now this one really captures Caleb!” Joan exclaimed, pointing to a photo with a sly grin on their great-grandson’s face. “He’s always got something up his sleeve, doesn’t he?”

  Michelle smiled and nodded. “All boy.”

  Handing the iPad back to her, Joan said, “Thanks, Mimi. Those are adorable pictures.” She glanced over at Phil and noticed him wincing a little as he shifted in the bed. “Maybe we should let your grandfather rest for a spell,” she suggested.

  “Okay. I need to call Steve anyway, and let him know we arrived safely,” Michelle replied. “I’ll go call from the front porch. I think that’s where I get the best reception.”

  Sheila looked reluctant to leave, but Joan caught her eye and said, “Would you mind helping me with the dishes, sweetheart?”

  She nodded in understanding. “Sure, Mom.” Standing up, she put her hand over her father’s and said, “We’ll be back in a bit.”

  He smiled and closed his eyes.

  Later that afternoon, Michelle offered to take Thumper for a walk, and Joan and Sheila settled on the porch swing. “How are you doing, Mom?” Sheila asked, her voice thick with concern.

  Joan stared out over the property. Without looking at her daughter, she took her hand. “I can’t imagine living here without your father.” She paused and then added, “So many memories.”

  Sheila nodded and squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Lots of good ones. Remember the tree fort Dad helped me build in that old oak?”

  Joan chuckled. “I sure do. I watched him drag the wood up those little foothold planks he’d nailed into the trunk.” She turned and smiled at Sheila. “Made me nervous as all git out.”

  “I remember. You paced at the foot of the tree trying to talk him out of it, and then disappeared into the house for the rest of the day.”

  Joan chuckled. “You loved that fort, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “I sure did. My favorite times were when Dad and I would sneak up there with the cookie jar and a thermos of milk.”

  Her mother feigned surprised. “You did?”

  “Oh, come on, Mom. You must have known.”

  She smiled and winked. “Okay, I confess. I did notice that the cookie jar was missing once or twice.” She sighed contentedly and added, “We’ve had a great life here. That’s for sure.”

  There was a quiet lull in their conversation as they sat and rocked together, a gentle breeze caressing their faces. Sheila soaked in the peaceful scene, basking in her childhood memories. Finally, she asked, “What will you do when Dad’s gone, Mom? Have you thought anymore about moving up to Sandy Cove?”

  “I’ve been giving it some thought. Your father thinks it would be a good idea. But I don’t want to intrude on your new life up there, especially now.”

  “You mean because of Rick?” Sheila asked.

  Her mother nodded. “He seems like a good man, honey. I’d like to see you remarry. You’ve got a lot of years left to enjoy with someone.”

  “You wouldn’t be intruding, Mom. Please don’t think that. We want you there. So do Michelle and her family.”

  Joan looked at her and smiled. “Thanks, honey. I’ll let you know when I decide. For now, I’m just trying to focus on the moment.”

  “Dad doesn’t have much time, does he?”

  Her mother patted her hand. “No. I can see him slipping away from us,” she said, her voice trembling a little.

  Sheila draped her arm over her mother’s shoulder. “I’m going to be here with you. We’ll get through it somehow.”

  As her mother leaned her head on her shoulder, a new strength coursed through Sheila’s veins. God was using all the hardship and heartache she’d been through with her husband to teach her to get her strength from Him and Him alone.

  A quiet confidence arose in her spirit, and she knew that God would equip her to say goodbye to her father, and to be a source of comfort for her mother and daughter as well.

  When Sheila finally retreated to her bedroom that night, she sat on the bed and looked around at the familiar surroundings. Her old dresser still sported a Battenberg lace doily and a pretty wooden jewelry box her father had crafted as a gift for her thirteenth birthday. The mirror over the dresser had been her grandmother’s. She stood and gazed into it, seeing a tired, much older face than it used to reflect.

  Pulling open the top drawer, she discovered a large manila envelope labeled, “Sheila’s Papers.” Pulling back the flap, she peered inside. A hodgepodge of old drawings and school reports transported her to the carefree days of her youth. “Mom must have found this stuff in the back of the closet somewhere,” she said softly to herself as she examined each item.

  There were cards and notes from friends. Even a few love letters from old beaus, including one from Michelle and Tim’s father. Sinking down on the bed again, she unfolded it and read through it. How I loved that man, she thought.

  Next she found a little pocket photo book. Flipping the pages, she saw pictures from the Father-Daughter dance. There she was in her pink chiffon, cradled in the arms of her father as they swept around the dance floor. She remembered how he’d made her feel like the princess at a ball.

  The final photo was a close up of their faces, both looking directly into the camera. Sheila gazed into his eyes and soaked in his youthful face and vitality. Where had the years gone? Soon her granddaughter would be this age. Sighing deeply, she slipped the contents back into the envelope and placed it into her suitcase.

  Then she climbed into bed, bone weary from the travel and the emotions of the day. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt herself once again swaying in her father’s arms as they danced the night away.

  The next day, Sheila took her mother to the market, and Michelle had a chance to be alone with her grandfather. There was so much she wanted to say to him. But how to begin?

  “Grandpa, remember when Dad was in the hospital and you came and found me in the chapel?”

  He nodded, searching her face as if curious about why she would be bringing that up.

  “I
was really mixed up, then. That New Age stuff intrigued me.”

  “I remember.” He smiled warmly and patted her hand.

  “You were so patient with me and you listened, even though you didn’t agree with what I was saying or believing.”

  “I knew you were seeking God, honey. And I believed you would find Him in time.”

  She nodded. “Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for talking to me and being straight with me that day. You knew how to speak the truth in love, and I’ll never forget that.”

  Grandpa Phil lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “God had your number, pumpkin. He wasn’t going to let you wander for long.”

  A tear slipped out of Michelle’s eye, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand.

  “Come here,” Grandpa said, holding his arms out to her. She moved into his embrace, and as she rested her head against his chest, she once again heard the heartbeat of God.

  Over the next few days, they each spent as much time as they could with Phil, sharing treasured memories and speaking of family and faith. Joan was always first up in the morning by his side and tried to be last to bed at night.

  Sheila and Michelle took charge of the many meals delivered by folks at the church. They attended to little details around the house and took turns relieving Annie, so she could get some sleep as well. Each day, Phil’s words became fewer and fewer. But he seemed to enjoy their tales of life up in Sandy Cove, and every afternoon he asked one of them to read to him from the Psalms.

  Through it all, Thumper rarely left his side, except to eat and take brief walks. He seemed to sense that his master’s time was short.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Three days later, Sheila awoke in the predawn hours to a soft knocking on the bedroom door. Grabbing her robe from its resting place on the back of a nearby chair, she wrapped it around herself and opened the door. Annie was standing in the hall. Her face was sweet but somber. “It’s time,” she said.

  Sheila nodded. “I’ll get Mom.” She padded down to her parents’ room and knocked gently, then opened the door. “Mom?” she whispered.

  Joan was still.

  “Mom,” she said again in a quiet voice, reaching out and placing her hand on her mother’s shoulder.

  Joan pushed the quilt back a little and turned to look up at her.

  “It’s time, Mom,” she said, helping her mother sit up on the edge of the bed. She reached for her mother’s robe and held it out for her to slip her arms into. They stood together, and Sheila put her arm around her mother’s back, holding her close to her side as they headed downstairs.

  They could hear Phil’s labored breathing from the front room. There was a rattle in his chest with every breath. Annie was checking his IV and adjusting his blanket. She gave Joan a sweet smile and gestured to the chair next to the bed by Phil’s head.

  Joan sunk down into it and took her husband’s hand.

  He turned and gazed at her but didn’t speak. Sheila could see that the pain and the cancer had gnawed away his strength. It looked like every breath was a decision.

  “Shall I get Michelle?” Annie asked softly. She had lovingly prepared the room for them, and three chairs embraced his bedside.

  Sheila nodded and took a seat next to her mother. She watched her mother bring her father’s hand to her face and kiss it. “We’re all here, Phil. Just give us a few more minutes before you go.”

  Sheila’s dad slowly nodded his head as he stared at his wife. His mouth moved, and although the words could not be heard, Sheila could see him say, “I love you.”

  Her mother’s mouth trembled, and her voice shook as she replied, “I love you, too, old man.” Tears spilled from her eyes and Sheila’s vision blurred.

  A moment later, Michelle was at her side, placing her hand on Sheila’s shoulder. “I’m here, Grandpa,” she said softly.

  Phil’s gaze traveled from his wife to his daughter and granddaughter. With apparent effort, he smiled. Then his focus shifted heavenward. After another deep breath, he spoke. “I see it. I see it all.” Peace washed over his countenance as if all pain had completely dissolved.

  Joan leaned in close. “It’s okay to go. It’s okay. I’ll see you there.”

  He nodded, took one more breath, and was gone.

  Joan stayed by Phil’s side for several hours. Their pastor came and sat with her, reading some of Phil’s favorite passages and praying with her while Annie made all the arrangements for the death certificate and contacted the funeral home.

  Michelle retreated to her room to call Steve, while her mother stayed downstairs bringing tea to Joan and the pastor.

  I’ve never seen Mom so strong, Michelle thought. Although she’d dreaded her grandfather’s passing, Michelle herself felt a special peace enveloping her. Thank you, Lord, for being with us today. Thank you for my sweet grandparents and for taking Grandpa safely home.

  She nestled into the overstuffed chair by the window and called her husband.

  Steve answered on the second ring. “Hi, honey,” he said.

  “He’s gone, Steve.”

  “What?”

  “Grandpa. He’s gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. How are you doing?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, I guess. It was really peaceful. Different than I expected.”

  “How are your mom and grandmother?”

  “It’s hard to tell about Grandma. She’s pretty quiet. The pastor came and sat with her. He’s still in there.”

  “What about your mom? Is she holding up alright?”

  “You should see her, honey. She’s being so calm and strong.”

  “Good. That will help your grandmother. We’ve been praying for all of you — for God’s strength and peace. Ben was here last night for a while. He brought Caleb home, and we sat and talked and prayed.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “God really answered your prayers.”

  “Let me know when we should come down,” he said. “Do you need help with the funeral arrangements?”

  “No. Grandpa made sure everything was taken care of last week. He must have known his time was coming.” She suddenly felt a wave of deep sorrow wash over her as she realized once again how very special Grandpa Phil was to all of them. “It’s going to be really tough without him,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

  “I know, babe. I wish I were there with you. Do you want me to come down right away? I could try to get a red eye tonight.”

  “Let me talk to Mom, and I’ll let you know,” she replied, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

  “Should I tell the kids?” he asked.

  Michelle felt overwhelmed with the thought of all the details ahead. It seemed like they’d just planned a funeral for her father and had to sit down to tell Maddie and Caleb their grandfather was dead. Now it was Grandpa Phil. “Wait until I figure out what we’re doing down here,” she replied. “If possible, I’d like to be with you when you tell them. Maddie’s heart is still so tender from Dad’s passing. And Caleb was really attached to Grandpa Phil.” Her voice was trembling as she said his name.

  “Of course. Whatever you think is best,” he replied. “I’ll give Roger the heads up that I will need to be gone from the office for a few days or a week. You just let me know what you need, and I’ll make sure it happens.”

  After they’d said goodbye, she sank down into the chair and allowed herself a good cry. As she thought back over the many memories of her grandfather, her mind came to rest on the day he’d found her in the hospital chapel after her father’s failed suicide. She had been such a confused young lady at that time, immersed in mysticism and New Age mumbo jumbo. With great love and patience, Grandpa Phil had led her to the foot of the cross and a fresh start with God.

  His legacy of faith lived on in her and her children and she knew one day they’d all see him again. It didn’t make the pain any less, but it made the hope of heaven sweeter than ever.

  “Come on, bo
y,” Sheila said as she tugged on Thumper’s collar. “Time for you to go outside for a walk.”

  The dog didn’t move. He sat resolutely by his master’s bedside, eyes fixed on Phil’s face.

  “It’s okay, dear,” Joan replied quietly. “He’ll go when he needs to.”

  “I’ll get his food and bring it in here.” Sheila went to the garage and got Thumper’s bowl and a scoop of his food. She brought it to his side and put it on the floor.

  He looked up at Joan as if asking permission.

  “Go ahead and eat,” she said, nudging him gently, and he obeyed.

  She stroked his head afterward. “You’re going to miss him, too, aren’t you buddy?” she asked in a near whisper. His sad eyes just gazed up at her. “Maybe I can get him to go out.” She stood and called, “Come on. Let’s go out back.” He seemed to study her face, hesitating to leave. She ruffled his fur and repeated herself. Finally he stood and followed her out of the house.

  After doing his business, he was back at the door, pressing his nose to the jamb and whimpering. Joan sighed, opened the door, and walked with him back into the front room. A knock on the door distracted the dog, and he rushed over and began barking.

  “That will be the funeral home, Mom,” Sheila said, grabbing Thumper’s collar as Annie went to open the door. When the men began transferring Phil’s body onto a gurney, Thumper became frantic, pulling hard and trying to follow them out the front door.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay, boy,” Sheila said, trying to soothe him as she watched her mother trail them outside. After the hearse was gone, she let him out the front door.

  Joan called him to her side and the two of them perched on the top step of the porch, her arm draped over his furry body. Sheila fought tears as she watched them huddle together, knowing their lives would never be the same.

  The funeral was planned for the end of the week. Joan surprised both Sheila and Michelle when she said she’d like to have two services, one at their local church and one up in Sandy Cove. “Do you think Ben would be willing to do one for the family up there?” she asked.